


I'll Dream for the Both of Us

by lazylilking



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Burns, Cuddles, Homicide, Human Experimentation, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Modern AU, Nightmares, Self Harm, Sleepless, Smoking, hints of molestation, trigger warnings damnit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazylilking/pseuds/lazylilking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, Jean sits a silent watch at the foot of Eren’s bed, chasing away nightmares and burning holes in the carpet with cigarette ashes. Because ever since Jean got them out of the hell in that basement, he’s been doing everything to build back up the kid he once knew from the destroyed mess before him.<br/>Even if it means pretending he’s some kind of hero.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Dream for the Both of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after a bout of insomina. Enjoy :)
> 
> (edit 5-18-2015: went back through and edited a few details to make sense with a sequel chapter)

My smoking habit was burning holes in Eren’s carpet. In the dark it was impossible to see, but I could feel the blackened circles beneath my feet, tracing every one of them with whatever toe was sticking out of my socks that night. I rolled the fate of the worn fibers in my mind at the same time my hands cupped an open flame to the unfiltered end of my vice. Fuck the carpet. It wasn’t contributing to anything but hiding the bare clapboard flooring, anyway.

Besides; it’s not like Eren cared.

I felt him stir slightly in his sleep, his muscles lurching beneath the wool comforter to the tune of whatever nightmare was wracking his body at the moment. My hand reached out automatically to still his leg. After a few seconds of my touch the seventeen year old calmed back into a lighter sleep, effectively stopping whichever dream it was this time.

I pulled in a breath of nicotine and flicked the embers over the side of the bed. It was like this every night; Eren got eight hours of undisturbed sleep, and I got to press my back against the wall at the foot of his bed, chasing away the nightmares of a kid who used to be so strong.

We both used to be.

I snub the cigarette butt out on my wrist with a hiss, the pain sending just enough adrenaline through me to stave off any thoughts of passing out. In truth, I could probably just lay down next to him with the same effect, since every small jump was enough to send me shooting back into consciousness, and fuck knows I need the sleep. I was averaging about four to six hours a day, broken up between breaks at work and waiting rooms. Therapists’, doctors’, school counselor’s… Eren caused enough of a ruckus to set up at least an hour or two daily of sleep right there. I usually snuck a few minutes on the bus as well, or any other time I felt I could let my guard down enough to prepare myself for the constant all-nighters. And they were constant; I hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in over half a year.

Because, every time I did, I had the same nightmares that plagued Eren.

I was on my fourth cancer stick when he thrashed suddenly, lunging up with a scream dying in his throat. I was up and moving immediately, grabbing his wrists and fighting his strength to keep him from scratching at himself again, falling into a flurry of limbs and kicking feet, the burning end of my cigarette reflecting in his wild green eyes.

“It’s alright, Eren,” I stage whisper, finally getting him in a firm hold. “It’s okay. Stop fighting me, Damnit.”

My words seemed to snap him out of it, and finally he relaxed against me in a ball of sweat and labored breaths. I waited a hitch before lowering his wrists down and relaxing my grip, a small bead of blood rolling down the back of my hand where he’d managed to get me. I wordlessly pulled him closer when he fell into quiet sobs, knowing there was nothing to do but ride this out.

Eventually his sniffling became more frequent than the sobs, and he relaxed the death grip he’d had on my shirt. My cigarette had burned down to nothing a long while ago. I felt him shudder against me before leaning back to look me in the eyes, what I could see of his face puffy from crying.

“… he’s dead, right?” He breathed, unblinking in the dark. “He’s dead and gone for good, right?” I nodded. “…No more basements?” I nodded again. He looked down at my hands. “…no more walls?”

“No more,” I repeated, leaning in to kiss him comfortingly on the forehead, and then keeping my lips there. “No more cement walls, no more metal tables, no more pain. You’re alright, Eren. It’s going to be okay.”

“Will it? Will it really?”

I closed my eyes to the memories of our time in his father’s basement, shutting out everything from the time he kidnapped me in early pubescence to the time I stabbed his damn basement key in his throat. The same one Eren now wears around his neck in a macabre reminder that he’d never witness the horrors of someone who was supposed to protect him ever again. I closed my eyes to the thoughts of what he did to Eren—of what he did to me, of how I’ve kept up the lie that he never touched me to Eren for three years so he wouldn’t feel so bad about keeping me up at night. So that he could believe I didn’t have the same nightmares he did, so that he could focus on getting better.

So that he didn’t know I wasn’t.

“Yes,” I lie, pushing the course hair back from his sweat-glistened forehead. “It will be alright. Because I’m here. I’ll be strong for you, okay? I’ll be the leader. So just… don’t worry anymore, alright?”

He nodded slowly, then proceeded to pull me down beside him. I complied, soon finding myself pressed between the cold wall and Eren’s uncomfortably warm body as I continued peppering his forehead with small, comforting kisses and whispering positive nonsense in his ear until his breathing became even again, and he fell into a deep sleep I was sure would last the night.

If only I was so lucky.

I detached myself from him easily enough, making sure to be scarce by the time the sunlight hit his face and giving him a couple extra hours to sleep in before classes. Eren was building up his life piece by piece in our little trailer, and he was standing on a platform built from my own hard work and money from the state after a court case begged the question as to why his torment had gone unnoticed for so long, despite multiple visits from CPS. He was catching up in his schooling, he was on track to go to university in a year or two, and he’d even made a few friends by himself. And he deserved every second of it, if not a few unsupervised hours of sleep in the morning.

I, on the other hand, hadn’t earned those hours yet. What I had earned was the right to stand by the kid’s side, to work three jobs to pay for all the schooling and the rent and the therapy, and to sit in the pantry closet every morning and sob into the thickest pillow we owned before I had to pull on my mask of okay-ness and go about my day. And I made sure that every morning when he woke up, I was ready to greet him freshly showered and with breakfast in the making.

Because everyone in this house has nightmares.

But one of us has dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr-- http://lazy-the-fandom.tumblr.com/  
> 


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